No Way In Hell
by effulgentcolors
Summary: Heartthrob Killian Jones and Hollywood's ice queen Emma Swan are chasing their dreams, hating each other since before their first meeting and thinking they will just have to tolerate the other while the shooting of their latest movie lasts. But there's some fine print on their contracts and it seems that they don't know quite what they have signed up for, both on and off set.
1. Chapter 1

"I ain't working with her!"

"Oh, yes. Yes, you are."

"No, no, _no_. Sorry, sis, but even I have my limits."

"Really? Where did you find those? See, I know you must have _found_ them because you don't have the money to actually buy… well, anything."

"You're exaggerating, lass." Killian rolled his eyes at his sister, no, his _agent_, she was 100% in agent mode right now.

Funny thing though - no matter which part she was playing, Ruby Jones was always a pain in his ass.

"I'm not broke, Ruby. I'm just not gonna be buying you a new Ferrari anytime soon."

Something dangerous, almost animalistic, flashed in the brunette's eyes. Something that Killian was usually delighted to see because it meant she was going to hunt down one hell of a role for him. Something that right now, as his little sister stalked towards him in her blood-red 6-inch heels, scared him more than a little bit.

"Yeah, you are!" she said once again, literally shoving the contract in his face.

* * *

"No way in hell, David!"

David Nolan took a seat on the black leather couch behind him and with a groan let his head drop in his hands. If there was one nightmare that all agents shared it was a stubborn actor and he had been living the nightmare for the last six years. Oh, he loved the girl but to say she was difficult was a bit of un understatement.

"Emma, please, if you let this chance pass you by, you're going to regret it. I'm _begging_ you here."

"Which part of me wanting to be taken seriously did you not understand?"

"This is exactly _why_ you have to take the part. This movie is not your typical action-packed blockbuster that will blow over in a week. It's going to open you the door to a whole new side of the industry."

"Ugh," Emma Swan buried her hands in her blonde locks and pulled in frustration. "I cannot believe they want to cast that idiot!"

* * *

"Of course, they want to cast her! She's Hollywood's golden princess," Killian spat out the word. "Bloody hell! This is it, this is how I'm going to go down."

"Oh, stop being such a drama queen!" Ruby crossed her arms over her chest, glaring down at the brunet who was spread out on the hammock hung in the middle of his living room, hands on the back of his head, swaying leisurely as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"Easy for you to say, you won't be the one working with her every bloody day," muttered her brother like a petulant child. "I'm pretty sure she is the most stuck-up creature in the damn industry. And this is Hollywood, Ruby! Having a stick up your ass is basically a given, it's just the size of the stick that you have to worry about. And her stick is rumoured to be the biggest one out there."

"Yeah, well, _your _stick is rumoured to have been all over there so I don't think you should be throwing stones."

Ruby cut of his leer before it could even fully form.

"Killian, you need that role," she stated, voice growing more serious than exasperated, lips pressing into a thin line. "Unless you want to be doing romantic comedies for the rest of your miserable life."

All she got in response was a groan and her brother trying to turn his back on her. Which ultimately resulted in him tumbling from his hammock right onto the unforgiving floor.

"If you break that pretty face of yours, I won't even be able to get you in on a jell-o commercial."

* * *

"I'm not playing beside some stuck-up, half-witted, scruffy-looking 'bad boy'. And, no, I don't _care _how hot he is."

"You have to stop quoting that movie. You weren't even in it!" groaned David even as his eyes danced with amusement.

"Only because it was made two years before I was born," fired back the blonde, sticking up her nose. "See,_ that_ was a hit! A legend! I need something like this, David. And I'm not going to get it while working beside some second-rate drool-magnet. I have to work next to people with real talent, not people with… "

Emma scrunched up her nose. Dammit she was running out of insults. It was a bit hard considering that she hadn't _technically_ even met the guy yet.

"with… pants… panties… panties-dropping talents!" she exclaimed, probably more pleased with herself than she ought to be, before focusing David with a serious look. "I need something life-changing."

"I know," sighed her agent, eyes softening with understanding. "And I need you to trust me when I tell you that this could be it, Emms."

* * *

"… Do you have the script already?"

Ruby's triumphant grin did not sit well with Killian Jones. It was his turn to stalk forward, wagging his finger in his sister's smug face.

"Don't look so pleased with yourself, Ruby. I'm not happy about this. I'm in it for the money, sister!"

"You'll get it."

"I better!"

* * *

"… Do you have the script already?"

David was seconds away from fist-pumping the air. Emma rolled her eyes, pointing her perfectly manicured finger at him, eyes flashing in warning.

"I'm going to have your head, if this is not the movie revolution you've promised me."

"It will be."

"It better!"

* * *

Belle French burst in her boss's office, hair bouncing all over, eyes shining with excitement, beaming with her good news.

"We got them!" she exclaimed, linking her arms behind her back and doing her best not to start bouncing around. "Swan and Jones have both signed a contact."

"Good."

The girl's smile fell slightly at the emotionless response but she just gave a nod and made her way back out of the door.

"Good. We now have a deal."

* * *

She was late. She was so fucking late.

Emma's heels hit the pavement as she jogged towards the studio's entrance, clutching her Starbucks as if it was a lifeline. She was sweaty, she was hungry, she was tired and she was _so late_.

_Idiot, idiot, idiot!_

Soon enough she was in the heart of the chaos, people hurrying all around her, some not even noticing her, others staring as they passed her by, and some glancing back with raised eyebrows once they realized she looked familiar.

_Yeah, only minus any make-up and a proper shower._

Emma ran a hand through her already disheveled hair, struggling to catch her breath and willing her flushed cheeks to return to their normal colour.

_Great job, Emma! You wanna be taken seriously? How about you start by coming to work on time?_

Cursing under her breath, she almost collided with the person in front of her.

"Hey! Watch it, buddy!" she snapped at the unsuspecting and unlucky stranger.

Alright, so maybe that was actually her fault. She was having a bad day so sue her.

"Bloody hell!" the accented voice reached her ears as she felt the warm hand on her arm trying to steady her. "Easy there, lass."

The blonde finally looked up. _Oh!_ She had heard that the bastard was attractive but this was ridiculous. Those eyes in particular.

However, before Emma could really get lost in the ocean that was Killian Jones' gaze, he had snatched the coffee out of her hand and taken a generous gulp. She couldn't stop the little indignant gasp or the way her jaw remained hanging in shock afterwards.

_What the actual f-_

"I prefer it with sugar," he drowned out, handling her back the cup and licking his insanely full lips. "Don't worry you'll learn."

Snapping her mouth shut, Emma scoffed and gave him the sweetest fakest smile she had.

"I've worked with some real dickheads but not knowing your own co-stars has to be a new low," she gritted out, pretty sure that he would start smoking from the heat of her glare any second now.

"Oh!" Killian's eyes widened and he let out an over-dramatic gasp.

_Dear God, if those are his acting skills this movie is already doomed._

"My apologies, princess, they must have gone too far with the airbrushing on those photos I saw."

"Lovely. And here I thought you couldn't be worse than I imagined."

Suddenly Killian Jones was so far into her personal space that Emma had to take a step back, glaring up at his smug face.

"Well, darling," he murmured, leaning towards her ear. "You should… _exercise_ your imagination more."

Emma growled in warning at the part of her that wanted to swoon at the way his tongue wrapped around the word 'exercise'.

_Gagging, Emma! Gagging in disgust is the appropriate reaction. Geez! He's an asshole and you _know _it._

"And you should really mind your own business," she hissed at the brunet. "And while we're at it, let me tell you what else you should do. You should keep your cheap cologne and overused innuendos as far away from me as possible. Because, frankly, I have absolutely no desire to communicate with you. In any way. But since obviously I will have to, you can bet your over-confident ass that I'm going to make damn sure our interactions are brought down to the bare minimum. Basically? If you're not shooting a scene with me? You do not exist. And I'm ridiculously happy about it."

"Oh, you're tough lass."

Killian leaned back a bit, humming and obviously sizing her up, surprise and something suspiciously close to respect shining in his eyes. And then he was once again in her face, breath hot and smelling of peppermint.

"But worry not, I love a challenge," and with a grin and an infuriating wink he was sauntering away before the blonde could scoff at him once more for good measure.

"Ugh," Emma shook her head, trying to control the rage radiating from every pore of her being. "No movie is worth _this_!"


	2. Chapter 2

The second time Emma saw Killian Jones was just a few short hours later (way less than she would have liked) and he was supposed to be shooting his first scene. An action scene. If she had any luck he might just break a leg (literally) and put her out of her misery.

_Yeah, right. While sitting in his chair and complaining about how his stunt double looks nothing like him._

Making her way to where they were shooting Emma frowned as the scene before her. Eyes rising up, up, up, all the way to Killian, who had his feet planted firmly on a platform more than 60 feet above her. He was talking to the guy next to him, joking and laughing and then he was jumping. His face was set in concentration but there was something reckless about the excitement in his eyes. Before Emma could register the ropes securing him, a sharp gasp left her lips and she lurched forward just as his fall slowed and he landed gracefully on his feet, knees bent slightly, head down, panting for the benefit of the rolling cameras. And then he lifted his gaze and damn if she didn't think that look just might melt those cameras pointed at him.

The sound that came from her was a combination between an annoyed huff and a relieved sigh. Not that she gave a rat's ass about the guy but seeing that he was in fact doing his own stunts she now felt a twinge of guilt for her previous thoughts.

_Great! Now if he does break something, I'm gonna feel like the worst person in the world._

Shaking her head in frustration, Emma turned her attention back to the man in question, who was preparing for another take. She was impressed despite herself. Few actors did their own stunts these days. Especially actors that needed to keep their faces intact to make money. Although, as Killian bent down, Emma had to admit that it probably wasn't just his face that was making him money. She unconsciously tilted her head to the side, the brunet's white t-shirt and black jeans leaving little to her imagination. Yet it was still starting to run away from her when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Hey," the brunette behind her gave Emma a huge smile. "I'm Ruby."

There was something wild about the girl, something _free_. She was the definition of devious and sexy yet with a kind of innocence to her smile that almost made Emma wistful. She liked her. She didn't know why because she rarely liked people, especially so quickly, but somehow she was absolutely positive that she liked Ruby.

"Hey," Emma returned her smile. "Are you in the movie or…?"

"Oh, no, no," Ruby shook her head with a laugh. "I wish! I'm that idiot's agent."

Emma followed her finger, eyes landing on Killian's back.

_Of course._

"And his sister."

_Well, that explains the hotness factor… Emma, you did not just think that!_

"Right," was all she managed, deciding that Ruby (and Ruby only!) must have taken all the good genes in the family.

"I know," laughed the brunette again. "Trust me, _I know_. You're Emma Swan, right?"

"Oh, yeah, I am. Sorry," she apologized, realizing that she had yet to introduce herself.

"Nah, it's alright," said Ruby, waving away her apology and winking at her. "I know my brother can be a bit of a distraction."

_So the annoying gene must have been inescapable._

"That's not-"

"No, no, I didn't mean that you like him. I'm pretty sure you hate him," Ruby rushed to explain, the smile never dropping from her face. "I mean, he was certainly "excited" to work with _you_. But even if Killian is a complete moron, he is a pretty gorgeous moron so girls' eyes tend to… you know, drift against their will."

"Well, my will is pretty strong so," stated Emma, arms crossing over her chest as the guy himself approached them, throwing an arm around his sister's shoulders.

"Came to check up on me?" he asked, taking a few deep breaths and wiping the sweat off his forehead.

Ruby rolled her eyes and pulled a disgusted face while trying to shake him off, making Emma lower her head a bit to hide her amused grin.

"You stink!" declared Ruby, finally managing to put a satisfying distance between them.

"I packed my lunch, tied my shoelaces, looked both ways while crossing the street and came on time," Killian recited in a little boy's voice, completely ignoring her comment before focusing his eyes on Emma and grinning evilly. "Unlike some people."

The blonde just rolled her eyes, turning back to the other girl.

"My condolences."

"Oh, honey," Ruby moved closer, putting a hand on her shoulder and giving her a sympathetic smile. "Trust me, those should be for you."

And before either actor could express their indignation Ruby was waving them goodbye and grinning wickedly as she called back.

"Nice meeting you, Emma! We should grab a tequila shot or ten sometime. Meanwhile, try not to kill each other!"

* * *

The next time Emma saw Killian Jones he was naked save for the white tower that hung dangerously low on his hips. She didn't care what the smug bastard might claim later, she did _not _stare for more than ten seconds.

But, boy, she could have. She could have grabbed a chair and a margarita and stared at him all day. Broad shoulders, toned stomach, a trail starting from his chest hair (which was doing ridiculous things to her right about now) and disappearing beneath that damn towel, muscular arms, not too bulky but just enough to let Emma know that he could lift her up over his head and-

"Well?"

"Sorry, what?" Emma blinked at him, trying her best to bury the images that had just invaded her mind as deep as possible.

Judging by his amused grin, she wasn't doing a very good job.

"Something on your mind, lass?" he drawled out.

"Yes, actually. I was wondering what the current #1 pain in my ass was doing in front of my trailer. In nothing but a towel."

_Now attempt a disgusted face and do not let your eyes drift. Strong will, Emma! Remember strong will._

"I knew I would become your #1, Swan. Just didn't expect it to be so soon," he winked at her but before she could fire a reply his infuriating grin dropped into a frustrated frown. "My shower's not working. And as you can see, I really need one."

Oh, she did see. He was covered in a sheen of sweat and was still slightly out of breath, which she guessed she would be too, if she had been jumping of this and that and running here and there for the last three hours.

"And why does that equate to me having to bare your stench?" she growled out because _she did not like the guy_ and she did not like being impressed by somebody she didn't like.

He opened his mouth, eyes blazing, and somehow she was already used to those snark matches and felt a sliver of anticipation form in the pit of her stomach.

_We've known each other for a day for crying out loud!_

But then his mouth snapped shut and he looked her up and down, lips pursed in indecision. He wanted to bicker with her just as much as she did and she knew it. But instead Killian rotated his shoulders, pulling a face, and let out a tired sigh before giving her an almost apologetic smile.

"Right. Sorry, lass, must have overestimated your good will," he said without bite, turning to head back to his trailer.

_Oh, come on! Being a half-decent human being and expecting me to be one too is just cheating. _

"Ugh. Fine!" she called out after him, disgusted by her own weakness. "You can use my shower but, I swear to God, if I find out that yours has been working perfectly well the whole time."

Killian turned around, quickly jogging back to her.

"It's not!" he promised, drawing a quick cross over his heart before giving her a winning smile.

"You have ten minutes and then I'm kicking you out, towel or no towel," she warned, finger pointed at his stupid happy face.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he said, slowly moving closer before bypassing her and making for her bathroom. "I knew you couldn't be that much of a stuck up ice-bitch."

"Ah, you dirty little-"

But before she could throw him out on his ass he had shut and locked the door and soon enough Emma could hear the shower running and the infuriating bastard in it humming some equally infuriating song .

She had to get out of there. Mostly because it sounded like he was good.


	3. Chapter 3

Emma frowned at the Starbucks cup that was sitting in front of her trailer the next morning, patiently waiting for her. She bent down, picking it up and reading the words written hastily and way too elegantly on the holder – "Thanks for the shower". The blonde's cheeks flared up and she instinctively glanced around to make sure she was alone, her gaze hardening as she imagined all the people that could have passed from here and seen the obscure message.

_Smug bastard! I'm letting him sit in his filth next time!_

She was half way to the trashcan before she decided to take a sip of whatever was inside, spearing the idea that it might very well be something poisonous a quick thought before the warm liquid filled her mouth, caressing her taste buds and awakening her being. Dammit! The idiot had remembered how she drank her coffee.

Emma turned away from the bin with a frustrated growl. Throwing away perfectly good coffee was a travesty she was not willing to engage in no matter how annoying the source it came from. As she sipped her drink she tried to ignore the thought that she should introduce him to the magic that was hot chocolate with cinnamon.

* * *

"All done!" Mary-Margaret beamed at Emma as she put the finishing touches to her make-up.

"Thank you!" smiled the blonde.

She usually didn't get close to the people she worked with, neither her co-stars, nor the rest of the crew. But Mary-Margaret had such soft eyes, such an open face and such a welcoming smile that shutting her down had seemed just too cruel. Now Emma was afraid that the woman was starting to consider her a friend and as the thought lodged itself in her mind, she gave her another awkward smile and made her way to set.

She was shooting her first scene with Killian Jones. If it could be called that.

* * *

"Cut! Cut! Cut! Miss Swan, have you read your script at all?" came the director's venomous voice, making Emma clench her teeth and try to keep her mouth shut.

_I was up reading my script till 3am, thank you very much._

"It says you glance at him. You _glance_, Miss Swan. Shall I get you a dictionary? That implies a passing, quick look not the stare-fest you and Mr Jones have been engaging in while wasting all our time."

"I thought-" Emma started to respond.

"I would love to discuss the script you supposedly read and hear all your genius ideas over tea and biscuits but sadly I'm too busy trying to shoot a movie here. Care to join me?"

_I thought it ridiculous that in ten minutes you would want my character to be absolutely fascinated with this guy who she supposedly didn't bother to keep her eyes on for more than five seconds._

But Emma kept her mouth shut this time, because she could guess what arguing would get her. Best case scenario – nothing, worst case scenario-

"Come on now, Mills, can you blame the girl for having trouble with tearing her eyes away from me?"

- the look on Regina Mills' face right now.

Most of the crew shared a low chuckle, the comment lightening the somber mood slightly.

_And Mister Self-esteem strikes again._

But before Emma could find something sharp enough to aim at Killian Jones, she met his gaze. And realized with a start that he was actually trying to stick up for her. In his own completely inappropriate I'm-an-overconfident-prick way, of course. But still…

_Well, that's a first..._

The sad part? It wasn't a first with him, or a first on a movie set, it was a first in her life.

* * *

There was officially somebody Emma and Killian disliked more than each other on set. The film's director, Regina Mills, had devoted the rest of the day to making sure of that. And the actress was pretty sure that they weren't the only ones who already hated the woman's guts. Honestly, if she passed her on the stairs somewhere Emma wasn't sure if she would be able to resists tripping the bitch.

Shaking the childish thought from her head, she grabbed her purse, starting towards the exit only to find David there. Deep in conversation with no other but her now #2 pain in the ass.

"David?" she said, probably a little more accusatorily than could be expected, when she was only a couple of feet from them.

"Oh, hey!" the blond looked at her guiltily, taking a step back from Killian and shooting him a weird look.

_What the hell?_

"Are you trying to steal my agent?!"

Emma had considerable trouble closing her mouth.

_What the actual fuck? This has to be the lamest way to attack somebody._

She frowned at the feeling of betrayal that had quickly spread through her entire body, making her eyes go cold as she directed them towards the man she had actually started to not completely despise.

_Because you are an idiot._

Killian's deep laughter, only made her blood hotter as it rushed to her cheeks despite Emma's desire to remain absolutely unaffected by whatever scheme he had conjured up to mess with her already messed-up life.

"Swan, I'm trying to set him up," he managed to get out between his snorts of laughter and it was David's turn to blush.

"Huh?" was all Emma was capable of coming up with at that point.

"Well, I-I just… You see…" David looked down, shuffling his feet like a young boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

_More like caught with a collection of Playboys under his bed._

"He asked me if I knew Mary-Margaret," said Killian, coming to his new friend's rescue. "I told him that she was the make-up girl but that you were the one to ask for more inside information."

Upon David's curious look Emma opened her mouth to deny knowing Mary-Margaret at all but the hint of hopefulness in his eyes stopped her. Letting out a sigh of defeat, she stuck her hands in her pockets, trying to appear as relaxed and nonchalant as possible and gave her agent a slight nod. David's eyebrows shot up, surprise taking over his face, just as she had expected. Emma did not play well with others and he knew it. But there was a smile tugging at his lips too so she couldn't make herself completely regret the admission that yes, she did actually know how to communicate with people.

"I also might have suggested that we all go out for drinks," cut in Killian, defusing the tension with an easy grin. "And that, given my deviously good looks, there was no way you would turn down such an offer."

Emma knew that it was about time she stopped being surprised by the guy's ego but she just couldn't help it.

"I'm NOT going on a double date with you and Mary-Margaret and David!"

The light that entered Killian's eyes, making them twinkle with amusement, did not bode well for her.

"Actually," he drawled out, biting his lip and smirking at her in a way that could only be described as sinful. "I was going to ask my sister to come along and tell you to bring anyone you want. You know, make it less suspicious so that MM doesn't get wind of Dave's little crush here."

Emma could already feel the embarrassment and repressed aggression rolling off of her in waves and was almost impressed by the guy's nerve as stepped closer to her, wiggling his eyebrows and shooting her an absolutely smoldering look.

"But if you would like something more… private," his lips wrapped around the word in a way clearly designed to make her knees weaken. "You just have to say the word, lass."

"The only private encounter you would get, Jones, is with my fist," she fired back, instinctively invading his personal space too so that their noses were almost touching.

"Alright!" David clapped his hands together, an uncomfortable and slightly suspicious look on his face.

Emma took a step back, realizing just how close she had been to the walking sexual innuendo in front of her.

"Know what, David?" she said, turning towards her agent with a grin that was just a little too big to be real. "I'm in! And unlike some people I'm not just being an annoying little shit, I actually really think you and Mary-Margaret would hit off."

"Oh, well, great!" David still looked at her with a bit of apprehension but his excitement had been sparkled. "When would you guys all be free?"

Now that was a tough one but eventually Killian and Emma agreed that they would all be able to let loose for a couple of hours next Saturday.

"Great!" exclaimed David again, shooting them another huge grin. "Thanks, Ems! Killian, nice meeting you!"

"Nice meeting you too, mate," replied the brunet with a genuine smile and shook the other man's hand.

"Your agent's alright," he told Emma when David had already left. "Bet you drive him up the bloody wall."

Emma rolled her eyes, focusing on their plans instead of dignifying him with a response.

"Just make sure your sister isn't suddenly 'unavailable' next week?"

"Well, Swan, if you are so concerned about me tricking you into some lameass double date, why don't you just invite a friend of yours to tag along?"

The blonde's gaze shifted for a second, something bleak and broken flashing in her eyes before it was gone, locked away, and she was left hoping he hadn't noticed.

"Killian, just bring Ruby, alright?" her voice was in no way pleading but there was no bite to it, no energy, no nothing.

"Alright," he nodded, watching her walk away without another word.

Dammit! He had noticed.

* * *

**A/N:** I hope you are having fun so far! I was quite excited about this and have an idea of where it's going but my #1 priority is that anyone and everyone who is taking the time to read it enjoys the ride. :))


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for the long delay! This one took some time but I'm really happy with how it turned out in the end. Hope you like it! :))

* * *

Emma let out a groan as she finally slipped off her heels and made her way towards the kitchen, mind already on the bottle of wine in her fridge and as far away from Saturday as possible.

_It's just one night. Just a couple of drinks. Get it together, Swan!_

Only it was more than that. It was the first night in years she was going out just to have fun.

_God! Had it really been years?_

It wasn't a semi-business meeting with David, it wasn't an interview or a movie premiere. It was just… drinks. With fri-

_With _people_. Most of which you don't know. One of which you cannot stand!_

And ten days were not enough to change that.

* * *

_Thursday_

So she bought Mary-Margaret coffee. What was the big deal? Going by the other woman's blinding smile, you would think she had gotten her a fucking Ferrari. She wasn't being nice, it was a strategic move - get the girl on her good side, create some sort of fictitious bond, make her feel comfortable so that she could grill her when the time came and make sure she wasn't going to go and break David's heart.

Although, if Emma was being perfectly honest with herself (which she rarely was), she had to admit that she just couldn't picture the sweet brunette breaking anything. Let alone another person.

Mary-Margaret was the definition of positivity. Emma had actually been tempted to follow Regina's smartass suggestion and crack open a dictionary just to see if the make-up artist's photo was inside. The girl was so damn optimistic and energetic. It almost made Emma sick. Only she was also so kind and compassionate that the blonde couldn't find it in herself to actively dislike a single bone in her body. She was the person everybody on set seemed to go to for advice. Or when they needed someone to cover for them. Or when they had just been yelled at by Regina. Or when they had a mild hangover. Or a broken heart. And she welcomed everybody with a sympathetic smile and an assortment of tissues.

Emma and Killian (and Regina, of course) seemed to be the only people who did not look at Mary-Margaret as if she was a benevolent queen with a fix for every problem.

_Probably because we know better._

Emma scrunched up her nose in distaste. It was thoughts like that which forced her to glare at her co-star that much harder. Emma Swan did not think in the plural. No matter the circumstances.

And maybe on some level she had bought Mary-Margaret coffee just to stress the point that she _hadn't bought Killian one_. And maybe it was petty. And childish. And ridiculous. But the desire to get the bastard a hot chocolate while she had been waiting for her order that morning had been pretty damn strong and she had to push it down and make up for the unforgivable slip.

At least she was determined.

_Friday_

She had to film a scene with Killian. A scene where they danced. With each other.

Now Emma was very strict about what she put in her resume. And she knew that there was nothing mentioning dancing skills in there. Of course, when she had actually let Regina know that, the brunette had just rolled her eyes and told her all she had to do was sway around for a couple of minutes and twirl three times.

Emma was not reassured. Partly because Regina Mills was anything but reassuring, partly because she had no patience for Mary-Margaret's encouraging speeches and mostly because she didn't have a single dancing lesson under her belt.

Acting required confidence. And for the very first time Emma Swan didn't possess an ounce of that.

"Excited, luv?" the voice was millimeters away from her ear and she could literally feel the puff of air on her neck as the man behind her let out an amused chuckle.

Quickly putting as much space between them as possible, Emma glared at Killian Jones.

"Immensely," she drawled out.

"You should be. I'm a good dancer."

_Great! Just what I needed._

"Sorry to bust your bubble but this is not supposed to be the kind of grinding you practice with scantily-clad college dropouts in badly lit bars smelling of cheap alcohol and even cheaper perfume," fired Emma, trying to infuse her words with as much sarcasm as humanly possible and bury the panic inside her that he might actually be any good.

_Because it's just not fair._

"Wow!" Killian's eyebrows almost reached his hairline, there was laughter dancing in his eyes and a shit-eating grin splitting his stupid face. "Take a breath, lass. I don't want you passing out because of anything other than the shock from my dancing abilities."

Emma just rolled her eyes, trying to take the actually much-needed deep breath as inconspicuously as possible. She jumped in surprise when realizing that he had moved closer again and was trying to take her hands.

_What the actual fuck?_

"What do you think you are doing?" she demanded, wrenching free from his grasp but standing her ground.

"Relax, Swan," he said, obviously not fazed. "I thought you wouldn't appreciate the whole crew being there for our first dance."

Before she could come up with a reply he once again grabbed her hands, a bit firmer this time, placing one on his shoulder as his right arm found its way around her waist.

"Just picture it," he whispered, as he adjusted his hold and finally looked her in the eyes. "The lazy melody, the dimly lit club, the cigar smoke, the excitement of being caught in another man's ar-"

"I've read my script, Jones!" she snapped at him.

"Well, I'm sure Miss Mills will be happy to hear that," he replied without missing a beat.

And then he was tugging her that little bit closer and moving backwards and she instinctively followed him. To the left. Then forwards again. It was ridiculous but she could almost hear the music. It felt like sailing. Sailing on a calm, sunny day, with the wind swaying her this way and that way.

_Why, of course, Emma! Get all poetical on the asshole._

"When it comes to this, there's only one rule – pick a partner who knows what he is doing."

His light voice seemed to break her out of the spell she had let herself fall under. Pulling back, Emma tried to rediscover the concept of personal space and ignore the half-annoyed, half-disappointed look on the brunet's face.

"Good to know," she muttered. "I'm glad you are not full of hot air for once. We might actually pull this off."

_Because if it was only up to me, it would be painful to watch._

With a tight-lipped smile and a little nod Emma turned to go but Killian's voice followed her.

"Fuck what your resume says, Swan," he said with a fervour that surprised her enough to slow down her pace. "I believe you are a natural."

Emma tried really hard to suppress her eye-roll and she continued towards her trailer.

_Because you are such an expert on dancing talent and I care so much about what you believe._

A part of her really hated it as her confidence started to grow.

_Saturday_

Regina Mills was evil. She was evil personified and Emma Swan could not and would not be persuaded otherwise. Not that anyone was trying to.

The bitch had actually gone as far as to try and fire Mary-Margaret. Mary-Margaret! Probably the only person on the whole fucking set that was always on time, never complained and did her job with a fucking smile on her face.

At first Emma had thought that she would have to settle for watching the gentle brunette go home and plotting her revenge against the queen bitch in the silence. She had been wrong.

"You're going too far, Mills."

Killian had been the first to speak up. But he definitely hadn't been the last. Soon enough the whole damn crew had joined the scene and more or less forced the director to admit that shooting hadn't been delayed because Mary-Margaret hadn't done Ella's make-up on time.

_The voice of the people and all that._

And Emma was happy. She liked Mary-Margaret. She knew an injustice when she saw one. And she had stood up for her with all the others.

She just couldn't help wondering who would have stood beside _her_, if she had been the one getting fired.

_Sunday_

She had an e-mail from one Killian Jones. It said _'To my #1 fan'_

_Can't I catch a fucking break from this guy?_

If she opened it before all the rest, it was because she was eager to be done with him. That was her story and she was sticking to it.

Her story did not make his e-mail any less hilarious. It presented to Emma ten practical jokes. Raging from fart bags to schemes that she was pretty sure could actually get him imprisoned. Each more creative than the other. Each aimed to amuse the whole crew and humiliate her royal directness Regina Mills. Each reducing Emma to tears with laughter.

She wrote back. Putting a ban on a third of them. The ones that she knew could easily mean jail time.

_Because, with my luck, the idiot that would replace him would be even worse._

'_Ruin all my fun, why don't you, Swan?'_

'_Trust me, with a face like that you wouldn't enjoy jail.'_

'_Emma, are you trying to tell me I'm pretty?'_

'_I'm trying to tell you you're an idiot. But then again I have been doing that from the first day we met so…'_

'_Don't give up, lass. You never know. It might just stick some day... Especially if you come to visit me in prison specifically to remind me.'_

Before that night she had actually thought that crying from laughing too hard was a myth.

She had been wrong.

_Monday_

They had talked for five minutes. For that time he had managed to inspect his shoes 15 times, clear his throat 10 and say 'I find it interesting that' 5. When Mary-Margaret excused herself Emma knew that she really had work to do. But she wasn't sure she would have blamed the woman even if she had lied to get away.

David was probably the only person Emma could say she loved. Which was why she was always ready to come to his defense. And she wanted to, really_ really_ wanted to, but…

"Mate, when was the last time you flirted? You know, with an actual human being?" for his part Killian did look like he was trying to hold in his laughter.

_Gotta give him credit for that. _

Emma pressed her palm to her mouth, trying to physically push the giggles back in.

David just glared.

"You know what flirting is, correct? Like… engaging in a conversation with the opposite – or not, I'm not gonna judge - gender" continued Killian, eyes flashing mischievously. "With the objective to later engage in other activities that do not involve so much talking?"

Emma lost it.

David just muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'annoying know-it-alls that can't even act all that well' and made his exit.

_Tuesday_

Ruby brought Killian lunch.

"Subway?" the brunet's hand shot to his heart. "The sheer effort you put into taking care of me, sis!"

Ruby rolled her eyes. Emma snickered.

"That coming from the guy that tells me there are 'some Chinese leftovers in the bloody fridge' when I say I'm hungry as hell."

Killian pulled a face that Emma was convinced he had been using since he was 5-years-old and bested by his little sister. Ruby promptly ignored him in favour of diving back into her brown shopping bag and retrieving her own sandwich. Before handling one to Emma.

"Oh, umm," the blonde took it with a little furrow of her eyebrows, turning around to hand it over to Killian, who just shook his head.

"No, no, that's yours," said Ruby absentmindedly before pulling out drinks. "Coke, soda or water?"

_W-what?_

"Soda," Emma answered automatically while still presenting the other girl with her perfect imitation of a deer caught in the headlights.

"I'm a Coke girl myself," grinned the brunette, either oblivious to her shock or simply choosing to ignore it. "Which means Killian is stuck with water."

Her brother grumbled under his breath half-heartedly, his attention seemed to be on his obviously stunned co-star.

"Come on!" exclaimed Ruby as soon as she had distributed her cargo among them. "I only have half an hour and you're paying me back with a walk around the set."

And with that, and her seemingly endless amount of energy and enthusiasm, she sprinted away, calling back at them to 'Get a move on!'

"Don't mind her."

Emma jumped at Killian's voice so close to her ear and turned around to see him giving her a smile.

_Well, would you look at that, someone had something other than grins and smirks up his sleeve. And something stupidly adorable at that._

"And don't eat that, if she put something you are allergic to in it," he said, nodding towards the sandwich in her hand before turning to follow his sister. "Coming, Swan?"

She was. And she was sure as hell eating her sandwich.

_Wednesday_

Regina had thrown a cup of water at her. A plastic cup, sure, but that wasn't the point. Emma had been forced to deal with a lot more than a wet shirt from a pissed off director in her 28 years on this earth.

_That doesn't mean I'm gonna put up with the queen bitch's crap._

She had left the fucking set, ignoring the calls of everyone around her. And she had been damn glad Killian hadn't been there that day. The last thing she wanted was someone else getting in trouble with Regina for her sake.

_Oh, please, get over yourself. He's not going to quit his damn job because your precious feelings got hurt._

She called David after her second glass. He didn't tell her she was overreacting. He didn't tell her that violating her contract would be a bitch. He told her to sleep on it.

Killian called her when she was contemplating a fourth glass. He didn't tell her what words had passed between him and the director an hour earlier. He told her she was not giving the bitch what she wanted. He told her it was gonna be their way or the highway.

Emma was relieved she wasn't the only one thinking in the plural all the fucking time.

_Thursday_

Emma Swan knew she would probably be laughing her ass off at the picture they made, if only she wasn't part of said picture.

She was pretty sure she and Killian looked like some self-appointed superheroes, striding up to Regina Mills, faces grave, postures menacing. All they needed were a pair of swords and coats that swirled behind them.

"Miss Swan," the director sneered as soon as she saw her. "How kind o-"

"Save the venom for an antidote when you bite your own tail, Mills," interrupted her Killian, eyes cold and pining the brunette to her chair. "We're here to strike a deal and I'd strongly advise you to take it. Swan?"

"You are going to start treating the cast and crew with some goddamn respect," stated Emma, voice even and uncompromising (their way or the highway). "You're going to stop throwing blame around, taking out your problems or frustrations, or whatever it is that has shoved that stick so far up your ass, on everyone in the near vicinity. When someone's not doing their job well – fine, be a bitch, if that's the way you wanna go about it. When it's just for kicks? That's not going to slide around here anymore."

"Who do you two think y-" Regina started to rise from her chair but Emma just shook her head, stepping forward.

"Uh-uh, I'm talking. You're a sociopath, lady. You try running people into the ground for fun. Just because you have the power to do so? And now… you're seizing that power. And the second you slip again, we're gonna walk right out of here along with more than half of the cast and crew."

Emma threw the papers in her hand to the stunned woman before her. Lists of names and signatures falling around her as the two actors turned around and walked away.

Killian crossed his arms over his chest, Emma linked hers behind her back. Some physical restraint was needed to keep the high-five for after they had exited the premises.

_Friday_

Mary-Margaret had baked muffins for everyone on set. And she was excited.

David had called to make sure they were still on for tomorrow night. And he was nervous as hell.

Killian told her that Ruby had insisted she wasn't going to be the only one wearing high-heels tomorrow. And then he promptly rolled his eyes.

Emma was looking forward to Saturday. And found that slightly terrifying.

_Saturday_

_Who am I kidding? _

She found it _absolutely_ terrifying.

A lot could change in ten days.

And she needed to buy herself new shoes.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: I'm afraid the light and teasing tone of the chapters so far might have fooled you into thinking that my plans for this fic didn't include tons of angst and heartbreak. Um, my bad?_

* * *

She was excited about Saturday.

That should have been her first clue that things would go south.

* * *

Emma was angry. No, no, she was_ livid_. She had never in her life been so absolutely, completely, 100%, I'm-gonna-toss-your-ass-out-that-window-and-fucking-enjoy-it, pissed off!

"Emma!"

His voice drawing nearer only made her walk faster towards her trailer.

"Swan!" now he was getting frustrated too.

_Good. Serves him right!_

"Bloody Hell! Would you stop?" she heard his roar in frustration and come to a haul some five feet behind her. "What's your bloody problem?"

That did it. Emma whirled around, hair flying everywhere, eyes flashing with ire, and Killian's eyes widened for an instant because of the sheer power that radiated off of her.

"What's my problem? What's my_ bloody_ problem?!" She stalked towards him, barely restrained violence coming off her in waves. "You nearly broke your fucking neck, you stupid ASSHOLE!"

By now she was full on yelling and could feel people beginning to stare.

_Let them!_

"It's MY fucking neck, Swan! Trust me, my contract makes that more than perfectly clear," he hissed at her through gritted teeth.

"Oh, well, why didn't you say so!" sneered the blond, sarcasm dripping off every word. "As long as nobody would get sued and we can continue shooting on schedule _after _you get yourself killed everything's alright!"

Emma Swan had gotten the dangerous bad boy vibe off Killian Jones the second she saw him. She had never been truly scared of him. Not until that moment as he stalked toward her, face red, eyes flashing with rage and desperation, hands balled into fists at his sides, body vibrating with the effort to hold himself back.

"Exactly," he spat the word in her face with absolute finality and turned on his heel and stalked away before she could even assimilate it.

* * *

'_You better have those heels ready.'_

'_Sorry Ruby. Not coming. Just about to call David and let him know. Have fun.'_

'_Oh come ooon! Emma what am I supposed to do there with the lovebirds and the horde of fangirls that will be stuck all over my inebriated brother?"_

_Oh, yes, because I'm dying to spend some time in such company._

'_I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you.'_

Emma cringed. When exactly had she started caring enough to 'make it up' to anyone?

'_No. You're coming. This was you and Killian's evil masterplan anyways. You are seeing it through.'_

'_Ruby-'_

'_Don't Ruby me! I don't care what has gotten both of your panties in a twist. You are coming and that's final. Just… don't worry about Killian, okay?'_

_Easier said than done._

Emma's face hardened and she wrestled with her resolve until she had the bastard pinned down and not going anywhere. Worrying about the little piece of shit is what had gotten her into that mess in the first place. And Emma Swan had never had the problem of caring too much.

_Not since-_

She wasn't going to develop it now.

* * *

If she went a little overboard with the 4-inch heels and the bare-backed red silky dress and the deep red lipstick and the eyeliner and the short black leather jacket, well, she had been in the mood to look good so sue her!

_In the mood to show that I'm gonna have a good time even if he ends up dead in a fucking ditch somewhere._

"Emma!" Ruby waved her over to a table towards the back.

"Hey!"

Emma let the brunette kiss her cheek and tried to return her brilliant smile. She glanced over to David and Mary Margaret. The woman waved at her, a slight blush making her face even more welcoming . For his part David barely glanced at her and with a distracted 'hey' plunged back into his conversation with the make-up artist. Emma rolled her eyes but the almost non-existed distance between their chairs made her smile.

_At least something is going right._

"We picked a more secluded table 'cause, you know, celebs," explained Ruby with a grin and a wink.

"You don't have to worry about me," replied Emma, looking around a little uncomfortably.

The thing was that if people didn't expect to see you, they didn't. And Emma Swan was the last actress a person would expect to see in a public place. David had tried to get her to make an appearance at least at some more exclusive VIP parties but she could not be swayed.

_I have a fireplace, a shit ton of books I can never find the time to read and quite the collection of wine and whiskey bottles. Thank you very much._

Plus, a low profile had its perks. She could go and spill her drink over some guy right now and he would probably look at her, brush off any resemblance he found and proceed as if she was any other girl in the bar.

_Speaking of drinks._

Emma's gaze located the bar. And almost in the same moment it located Killian Jones. Leaning against the hard surface as if he was posing for the cover of GQ, a beer in hand and a dozen of bimbos pressing as close to him as possible and hanging onto his every word.

"Well, damn! I should have picked a spot closer to the stage then," grumbled Ruby, drawing Emma's attention away from the sickening sight. "Since you're a low profile expert and Killian has no clue what the concept entails. Makes hiding either of you rather pointless."

"He sure as hell isn't hiding," Emma snorted out, cringing at her tone of voice.

_Lovely. Sound more bitter, why don't you, Emma?_

* * *

"Really? I asked for a gin-and-tonic, Killian," Ruby glared at the brunet.

"Yeah, well, next time don't ask your big brother to buy you alcohol," he shot back with a shit-eating grin, handling her a fruity cocktail.

"I didn't order this," stated Emma, pointing to the scotch on the rocks he had set in front of her.

"It's what you wanted though, isn't it?" he replied, a little bite in his voice but no smug grin to his lips despite the fact that he knew he was right. "Second base, yet?"

"Excuse me?" she started to stand when he rolled his eyes at her and nodded towards David and Mary-Margaret.

"Meant the prom king and queen there," he said before giving her a leer without much force behind it. "But if you'd like to give them a run for their money…"

"Why don't you go pick up one of your groupies, Killian," she sneered at him. "It's the best you can do."

He drew back, almost as if she had slapped him and there was something in his eyes, something that looked suspiciously like resignation. Like agreement.

_The hell?_

"Yeah," he threw back the rest of his rum. "Why don't I go do that?"

* * *

The night was a bust. The night was a reminder why she didn't _do_ this.

Emma comforted herself with the success of those around her. The people who knew something that obviously nobody had taught her. How to have a good time.

Mary Margaret and David were currently on the dance floor. Pressed just a little bit closer than necessary but still looking quite sweet and innocent. David was a real gentleman. Mary-Margaret was a real lady. And they made a lovely couple. And suddenly Emma was feeling inadequate and ridiculous because _she_ had thought she should help_ them_.

_I shouldn't be giving anyone love advice. I shouldn't be giving anyone any advice._

Ruby was out of sight but Emma grinned remembering the way the guitar player

_Victor Something?_

had woven his arm around the brunette's waist a few minutes earlier and dragged her backstage.

She felt a little anxiety and concern for the girl creep up on her but shook them off immediately. Killian was rubbing off on her.

_Ruby is a big girl. She can handle herself._

She was certainly in the category of people who didn't need Emma's advice. Or her brother's, for that matter.

Emma's eyes instinctively shifted towards the bar where Killian had last been standing, paying more attention to the shots of tequila than the girls who he was licking the salt off of.

He wasn't there. She frowned, turning left and right.

_Where did the damn id-_

"I can get home just fine!" came Ruby's irritated voice from behind her, making Emma swirl around in her chair. "How are _you _getting home?"

Killian was right next to her, leaning on the table, giving his sibling an appraising look, brows furrowed as if he couldn't calculate whether she was old enough to drive herself home. Obviously his drunken calculations turned out in Ruby's favour because he gave her a reluctant nod before fishing his own keys out of his pocket and dangling them in front of her face.

"My bike," he stated, slurring the words just a bit, an obvious challenge written all over his face.

_Like hell you are!_

Emma snorted, looking back at Ruby for the inevitable explosion.

It never came.

"Fine," Ruby gritted out and started to stalk off towards the backstage again.

_Wait. What?!_

Emma was off and chasing after the brunette before she could think twice about it. Grabbing Ruby's arm she whirled her around.

"You're kidding, right?" she demanded, breath labored and eyes wide with disbelief. "You're not seriously going to let him drive home on a fucking motorcycle in this state!"

"Look, Emma-"

The resignation on Ruby's face made Emma jerked her hand back as if burnt.

"What the fuck is wrong with your family? Do you all think you're immortal or something?" she yelled in the girl's face.

_You're one to talk about family. None of this is any of your damn business._

Like hell it wasn't.

She could picture it with a sickeningly clarity. Getting a phone call. Because fucking Ruby was off somewhere fucking the fucking guitar player! And maybe that wasn't enough of an explanation, maybe there was no scenario in which they called _her_, but she couldn't stop picturing Killian. Killian on a cold metal table. Killian covered in blood. Killian in a place that smelled so heavily of death that even he couldn't breathe it life because he didn't have any left.

"What do you want me to do, Emma?!" shouted back Ruby, eyes flashing and for the very first time Emma thought they looked just like Killian's.

Just because of the rage and desperation swirling around in them.

"Tell him he can't go so that he drinks some _more_ and _then _goes without asking at all? You don't have a fucking clue!" Ruby stalked forward, invading her space much like her brother always did. "Do you know how much I hate that bike? Do you know how my skin crawls every time I don't see it in the garage? Do you know how he used to drive it down the most_ fucking suicidal_ paths? On way more than some rum and a few shots! You're mad because of some fucking stunts? Well, at least when he does those there are people there. People who can fix it if… if something goes wrong. People who know what's going on! You don't have a fucking clue! And, trust me, you don't wanna get one. So stop acting like you know me. Or Killian. Alright?"

Emma stood staring at the other woman. Shocked. Uncomprehending. Detached and too engaged all at once.

She could nod, agree, apologize, turn around, go home and sleep it off and hope tomorrow she won't have a new co-star.

It was the easy way out.

Emma Swan never took the easy way out.


	6. Chapter 6

Perhaps she should have been coming up with a plan while she was running through the club and dashing outside to find the idiot. Perhaps she should have argued with Ruby some more and made her chase after said idiot. Perhaps she should have said screw it and gone home. Perhaps she should stop thinking and do something because Killian was already straddling his bike and-

_Jesus Christ! The guy doesn't even wear a helmet! Isn't that illegal or something?!_

The bastard wasn't going to stop and listen to her no matter what she said so before she could actually think this through (and decide that she did wanna live to see another day) Emma sat herself behind Killian, trying to be casual (not absolutely_ frazzled_) about having to wrap her arms around him.

She felt him jump a little beneath her touch and a small smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. At least she had caught him by surprise.

Killian twisted his head around to look at her, annoyance written all over his face and a sneer already on his lips when he caught sight of her face. His face dropped in shock, his eyes running up and down her form before coming to rest on her arms where they were wrapped tightly around his waist.

_What? Did he expect somebody el- Oh!_

He probably did, she realized with a start. The number of fangirls who had mounted Killian's bike without asking permission after one too many drinks at the bar was probably enough to knock her right out of her stylish stilettos.

Shock however quickly gave way to annoyance again. Only, having seen the real thing, Emma could now tell that he was trying a bit too hard and there was a baffling undertone of panic in his eyes.

"Get off," he gritted through his teeth finally, turning back around.

"Such a gentleman," shot back Emma, sarcasm dripping off her words but she didn't budge. "You're giving me a ride home."

"Don't remember offering one."

"You didn't. But since you seemed so damn convinced that you can drive yourself, I don't see why you can't drop me off too," said Emma, voice a tad too chipper now as she tried to act as if she wasn't aware of how inadvisable it was for him to be driving anybody anywhere.

Killian's sharp laugh made her jerk back a little. She had heard the man laugh before and that was not the right sound.

"I'm sorry to get in the way of your noble intensions, Miss Swan, but this is not going to work," he said, voice heavy with a mixture of bitterness and repressed frustration.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said matter-of-factly.

And she wasn't completely lying. When she had first hopped on the stupid bike the thought that he wouldn't drive once there was somebody else with him hadn't really crossed her mind. She had been fully prepared to just cling on for dear life (both of theirs really since he didn't seem to have a nearly tight enough grip on his) as he sped past all the red light and STOP sign in town. Which, in retrospect, was probably unbelievably stupid, not to mention utterly useless as far as safety was concerned, but, as pointed out, she hadn't really done much thinking ( not past the 'not letting him go' point).

_Because going with my instincts always works out sooo well for me._

"Is that so?"

_Oh, yeah, now he is pissed in more ways than one._

Killian twisted around again to catch her eyes, his own burning with anger.

"So what are you gonna do if I drive off right now? Hmm, Swan? What if I start the bloody bike and don't even give you enough time to jump off?"

She thought that even if she hadn't already made up her mind the challenge and sneer in his voice would have been enough to make her stand her ground.

"That would be nice actually since it's getting pretty late and I have to get up early tomorrow," she replied calmly, refusing to break eye contact.

To her immense satisfaction Killian seemed momentarily too stunned to reply. His eyes hardening as he observed her, probably testing her, looking to see if she was as stupid as she was acting.

_Yup. Right there with you on the moron train._

He obviously found what he was looking for because his face suddenly broke. It just _broke_. His eyes took on an absolutely _devastated_ shade of blue and he let out a sigh that sounded like it was coming from the very depths of his soul. He gritted his teeth until she could actually hear them grinding against each other and hung his head, turning a little from her but not facing the road completely.

She swallowed hard, trying to hold in her gasp because she could swear nothing had ever made her heart ache more.

"Get off the damn bike, Emma," he ordered, voice suddenly devoid of all emotion and just… hollow.

_Fuck you! _

"I told you-"

"Bloody hell, woman! Just get off!" he yelled, his voice cracking with frustration and exhaustion.

Emma was about to open her mouth again when he reached over and dropped his keys in her lap. She stared at them dumbly for a few seconds before wrapping her mind around the action and snatching them up and quickly jumping off the bike.

Killian let out another soul-shattering sigh but got off too. Turning around, he bowed to her mockingly and gave her his most sardonic smile.

"I would offer to walk the princess home but I presume my company would be unwanted," he gritted out before turning around and striding off only a tad unsteadily in what she hoped was the direction of his apartment.

Emma stood rooted to the spot for a full ten seconds before groaning in frustration and jogging after him.

_I'm doing way too much running in high heels for that idiot!_

Once she reached his side she slowed down, trying to keep up with his big strides without actually running beside him. She could literally feel his gaze burning her skin but she refused to look at him.

"I'm in the same direction," she semi-lied.

_So maybe it's a bit of a roundabout way to getting home. So what? I need to clear my damn head._

They walked in silence for a few minutes, Emma fiddling with the keys he had given her and wondering if the jiggling graded on his nerves.

_I hope it does._

She really didn't.

"Why didn't you just drive?" the question slipped past her lips almost without her consent and she definitely didn't expect him to answer when-

"It's never the one who should go," he said gravely, giving her no other explanation.

_What the hell is that supposed to mean?_

"Your sister hates it."

His laugh was that wrong sound again which made her skin crawl and her heart howl in her chest, _the stupid thing_.

"Ruby complaining to you about my 'self-destructive tendencies' now?" he said, a forced sort of mirth in his voice.

"More like the other way around," she muttered under her breath.

Killian came to halt, whirling around to face her fully so that she could no longer ignore looking at him and had to stop too. Turning, Emma put on her best 'I'm not putting up with your shit!' face (except that she was, the whole fucking night was about putting up with his shit and she was starting to ask herself _why_) and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Why the bloody hell do you care?!" he screamed at her, the lack of control shocking her for a moment.

"What do you want me to say, Killian?" she screamed right back because dammit! she had not signed up for this and she should just walk away but she _couldn't_ and it was his fucking fault and she was angry (she was _furious_) with him. "Do you want me to sing your praises? To tell you how important you are to me? To everyone around you? To the world? 'Cause I'm not going to do that!"

If the look on his face was anything to go by he was real glad that she wasn't going to.

"You're a human being and I know you so no, I don't want you to get yourself killed. It's that _bloody _simple."

She stood in front of him, breathing heavily and digging her nails into her upper arms to hold herself back because this was a lie.

_A big fat lie._

He _was _important. And she didn't know when it had happened and she didn't know how the bastard had managed to do it but she was Emma Swan and the one thing she did know was that he probably wouldn't live long enough to hear her admit that to him even if he did quit all the risky stunt work and drunk driving.

He seemed just as worked up as she was and they were leaning towards each other, trying to intimidate or provoke, she wasn't even sure anymore. His eyes flickered to her lips which hers had done a couple of times already and for a second she thought he was going to kiss her. For a second all she could think about was what he would taste like.

"Well, I'm sorry to burst your bubble, lass, but just because you don't want somebody to die it doesn't mean they won't."

He moved away and resumed walking before she had been able to force her mind to switch lanes. Thankfully, he didn't seem to expect her to follow him any longer.

"Don't forget to bring my keys tomorrow," he threw over his shoulder, his voice kind of hoarse, making it almost impossible to hear him.

But she did and raised her own voice almost to a yell to make sure he heard_ her_.

"What do you need them for?"

Killian stopped and she knew he had understood her and just hoped that he didn't give her the obvious answer with a nice portion of sass on the side.

She was too damn tired already.

He swayed a little where he was standing, less than five feet away, his back still turned to her, and she knew it wasn't so much the alcohol in his system as whatever was swirling around in his head that was messing with his balance. She watched his hunched shoulders and the way he was seconds away from taking a step forward and leaving her without an answer. Leaving her behind.

Maybe she would have preferred that.

_No, I wouldn't have._

"Because I can still see my parents' bodies on the front seats while I tried to shelter Ruby from the glass that was fucking_ everywhere_. Because I can still hear Milah scream on the seat next to me as we swiveled off the road. Because I'm not getting in another bloody car again, if George Lucas were to hold open the door to his fucking limo for me! … But I am getting back on the road."

Emma didn't know what to say. It seemed like she had reached full capacity and could not absorb anymore horrifying information tonight.

So she just let him walk away.

_I'm sorry._


	7. Chapter 7

I tried to balance tha angst. Somewhat. Hope this doesn't leave you as unsatisfied as I left them. xD

* * *

She couldn't sleep.

_How _the fuck_ am I supposed to fall asleep?_

Her muscles ached and she was slightly cold but couldn't muster up the energy to get up and search for a blanket. Her stomach was a little ball of nerves and dread and anguish and every other unpleasant word in the dictionary. And the little alcohol in her system was not to blame. It was, however, responsible for the fucked up taste in her mouth.

_I washed my teeth twice dammit!_

She could almost taste the rum he had been drinking and she hadn't even kissed him.

_Thank God for small miracles!_

It would have been a disaster. She shuddered to think of having to show up on set after having kissed Killian. Not that she wasn't shuddering at the thought of showing up tomorrow anyway. She would give just about anything to spend tomorrow in her bed, blissfully unaware of the world outside with all its traps and twists and cruelties and fuck! Why couldn't he stay a spoiled over-confident asshole that got drunk for the hell of it and went home with two or three fangirls and didn't care about anything or anyone? Was that too much to ask for? Why did he have to be even more mistreated and fucked up by fate or whatever the hell was out there than she was? Why didn't that repel her at all?

_Get a bloody grin, Swan!_

Yeah. That didn't help _at all_. Could at least the voice inside her head not sound like him?

_Get a fucking grip, Emma!_

Better.

Now if only she could switch off the rest that was banging around inside her brain in that deep accented _broken_ voice of his.

'_the glass that was fucking everywhere'_

'_swiveled off the road'_

'_getting back on the road'_

Her stomach ached. Her head ached. Her heart ached the most and she was really tired of that little piece of shit's antics. If her heart could just keep quiet for once in her life, maybe, just maybe, she could get out of this one unscathed.

_Not bloody likely._

_Fuck you!_

_You'd like that, wouldn't you, lass?_

Emma groaned, flopping on her abdomen and muffling her growls in her pillow.

And then her eyes started burning.

_No. No, I am not crying for that bastard! NO!_

When sleep finally claimed her it was thankfully dreamless. And the tears on her cheeks had time to dry.

/

His mind was blissfully blank as he flopped down on his bed. He couldn't afford himself the luxury of thinking. There was hardly any alcohol in the house except for some beer and his bloody keys were in the possession of one Emma Swan, who had- no! Not going there. He wasn't thinking.

His dreams though were another story altogether.

Ruby. His little sister all covered in glass and blood. There was so much blood. There hadn't been so much blood, had it? But she wasn't little anymore. She was young and wild and fierce. His firecracker. And fire it was that burned in her eyes when she focused them on him. Only they weren't the right shade.

Milah. Always screaming. Why couldn't he remember her any other way. She was always screaming. His name. Always his bloody name. He wanted to forget it, to bury it somewhere, anywhere. He didn't want to hear it anymore. Not like this. She gasped and opened her mouth and he squeezed his eyes in preparation.

'_Do you want me to sing your praises?'_

Emma. Her arms around him. Holding him together. She shouldn't be the one holding him together. He couldn't let her touch him. She had to stop touching him. She had to let go before something happened. Again. Always.

/

"Morning."

Emma felt the goosebumps erupt all over her skin.

_Thank God for long sleeves._

"Hey," she said, voice just a pitch higher than usual, and tried to hide her cringe as she turned around to face Killian.

_Well, that's new._

Killian Jones. #1 Hollywood heartthrob and pain in her ass had one of his hands shoved deep in his pocket while the other scratched viciously behind his ear. His head was slightly bowed and he was shuffling, he was _actually_ shuffling his feet.

"Your keys are in my trailer, if you'll just-"

"Sod the bloody keys," he muttered, finally looking up at her.

_Ouch! And I thought I looked exhausted._

Emma linked her hands together, trying to physically restrain herself from teaching out and running her fingers beneath his eyes and through his hair.

_Now would be a good time to get that fucking grip._

"Swan, I-" Killian was back to seeking eye contact with anything but her. "I'm sorry about last night."

That... was not what she had been expecting.

Avoidance. Annoyance. Making light of the whole thing. Demanding she keep to her own messed up life in the future. Yes. An apology? Not so much.

_Can this man do what I expect him to at least_ once_?_

"I don't-" he was going to take his damn ear off, if he kept that up. "I'm sorry you had to… deal with that. I didn't-"

He groaned in exasperation, running his hands through his hair. He obviously wasn't terribly familiar with the whole apologizing thing.

Emma took pity on him.

"It's ok," she shrugged, because if he wasn't going to make light of it, she sure as hell would. "I shouldn't have- It's ok."

"It's really not. Not much I can do about it though," he mumbled before focusing her with a contemplative look. "But maybe I can make it up to you?"

_Innuendo time._

"With a strictly non-alcoholic drink?"

_Or not._

Emma was pretty sure she was doing some on her best 'fish out of water' imitation. Thankfully, Killian seemed too preoccupied with being embarrassed and out of his element to notice.

_Killian Jones nervous about asking a girl out. Who would have thought. Wait, no. He's not asking me out. It's just a coffee apology. Oooh, I can finally introduce him to the magic that is cocoa with cinnamon. Wait, no!_

"If you don't want to-"

She had been silent for too long.

_Say something, dammit!_

"_The Enchanted Beanstalk_?"

"Pardon?"

_Something that doesn't make him think you escaped from a mental institution!_

"It's a-uh a coffee shop. Just a few blocks from here. Cosier than a Starbucks. Not that we're looking for cosier. Not we! I mean you and I as in… we. So yeah, _The Enchanted Beanstalk_. Cheesy, I know, but they make the best-"

"Emma," he grinned at her, clearly amused. "Sounds lovely."

Ugh. Bastard. Losing the nervous edge thanks to her babbling.

"Right. Great."

"Today? After we wrap up?"

"Umm, yeah. Sure."

"Alright," he smiled at her, this one more sincere and happy.

_Damn. Happy looks good on him._

"Till then," he murmured, grabbing her hand and kissing her knuckles before she had realized what was going on.

She had just agreed to a date with Killian Jones.

/

_This wasn't happening. Why today? Why now? Why?!_

"I thought we weren't filming that until next week!" she shrieked, feeling herself flush as Regina gave her a look.

"When you are the one directing the movie, Miss Swan, you can make your own schedule. For now, you're gonna have to follow mine," stated the director, her voice leaving no room for arguing.

She was going to kiss Killian Jones. Today.

/

"Bloody Hell!"

/

"Ugh, not now!" she growled at her door which was being thoroughly abused from the other side.

"Swan, open the bloody door!"

_Shit!_

Emma's eyes widened as Killian's exasperated voice floated in.

_Oh, this is bad. This is very very bad._

She got up before freezing on the spot, grinding her teeth and clenching her fists. She was Emma Swan, dammit! She did not get in a ditzy over having to kiss some guy. In a fucking movie! She had made out with dozens of guys in front of a camera. Hell, she had done sex scenes. Killian Jones was no different. And she was not going to let herself go off the deep end because of something as stupid and insignificant as a couple of kisses.

"What?" she growled as she wrenched her door open, maybe a tad too menacing but she was past the point of caring by now.

This day was not going as planned.

For his part, Killian didn't seem fazed at all, pushing his way inside her trailer and waiting calming for her to close the door. Which she did. With a bang.

"What do you want?" she said with a sigh, giving him a murderous look just because Regina had marched off the second after she dropped the bomb on Emma and now she needed to take it out on someone.

A someone who was now stepping forward until his chest was only a slightly deeper inhale from hers and Emma had to actively force herself to stand her ground. His breath was way too fresh for someone who had drunk enough to knock out a whole college party last night. He literally radiated warmth and she could almost feel his hair beneath her fingers and his lips on hers.

_Well, that would be coming true in a few hours either way._

"I thought you might not be too keen on the whole crew being there to witness our first kiss," he whispered, lips almost brushing hers as he pronounced the words.

"And you what? Decided to drop by for a quick taste test?"

In retrospect, that might not have been a good choice of words. Not if the way Killian's eyes darkened and the way his tongue darted out to lick his lips was any indication. Emma's traitorous eyes followed the rapid movement, a warm fire starting somewhere deep inside her and spreading outwards at an alarming speed.

"Perhaps."

_Now, making words sound like that is absolutely NOT fair._

"Please, you couldn't handle it," she breathed out, her hands clenching in an attempt to keep still.

This was a bad idea. A kiss in front of a camera meant nothing. A kiss in the privacy of her trailer, on the other hand…

"Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it."

She wanted to deny it. She wanted to scoff at him. She wanted to punch the stupid grin off his face. She wanted to kick him out. She wanted to prove him wrong.

She knew he wasn't.

Killian Jones _was_ different and perhaps she couldn't handle it. And in the end she couldn't afford for that to happen in front of half the people they worked with every day. At least that's the excuse she was going with when her hands wrapped around the collar of his shirt and pulled his lips to hers.

Killian needed less than a second to catch up with what was happening. And then they were lost.

Passion, Emma had thought, was something that you channel and bask in, using it to satisfy your own selfish desires.

Passion, as it turned out, was something that ruled over you, making you a slave and making you love every second spend under its reign.

And she was absolutely convinced passion had completely taken over her and Killian. It rushed inside their fortresses as his tongue slipped inside her mouth. It took down every form of defense as they battled for dominance, for absolution. It swept over them, knocking down walls, infusing the very ground beneath their feet with its intensity as they clung to each other for dear life.

Passion plundered them like the most ruthless pirate, leaving to emotion unturned, no secret dream unobserved, taking to prisoners except that blasted piece of her heart.

When they pulled apart she felt the tide going out and dragging her very soul along with it and she felt herself swaying into him, trying to chase after it, after the piece of herself he was so blatantly stealing.

Her one consolation was that Killian seemed as wrecked as she felt. It gave her the strength to draw in a breath that was more oxygen than _him_.

"That was-"

"a training exercise," she muttered, channeling all her strength and willpower into pulling further away.

And then she was exiting the trailer, not caring that it was her damn trailer. She had to get away. Had to clear her head. Put some distance between them.

She had to run.

/

"Cut!" Regina's voice sliced the air less sharply than usual. "That was good."

And that was the biggest compliment Regina Mills was capable of giving. If Emma's brain was functioning at least somewhat properly, she might have felt smug about it.

Her brain was most definitely not functioning properly.

All it was currently capable of producing were demands for _more_.

More of him, more of his lips on hers, more of his hands around her waist, more of his fingers running over her cheek and tangling themselves in her hair, more of his tongue chasing hers, more of his taste, his warmth. _More._

By the time she started making her way through the daze wrapped around them most of the crew had got back to work and she and Killian were the only people who hadn't moved from their spot.

"Emma."

His voice finally snapped her completely out of the spell she had fallen under.

_Wasn't a kiss supposed to break the spell, not put you under one?_

"I have to-" she gestured vaguely.

The direction didn't matter. She just had to move.

She had to run.

/

"Jones."

His stupid eyes snapped up to hers and his stupid lips stretched into a light grin over his stupid face.

_No._

"Swan," he drawled out, turning her name into something hot and sticky and-

_No._

"Look about tonight…" she took a deep breath, this wasn't a big deal, _it wasn't_. "That's not gonna work for me."

"Oh," his lips twitched downwards for a moment but refused to stay put. "That's alright. Maybe tomor-"

_No._

"No. I-" she stared somewhere over his shoulder, then towards her trailer, up towards the ceiling. "Let's just forget it, ok?"

"Forget-" this time when his lips fell they stayed down and if she let it that alone could break her heart. "Emma-"

_No._

"I'm sorry. It's better this way."

"Swan."

_No._

She turned around and started walking towards the exit.

"SWAN!"

_No._

She had to run.


	8. Chapter 8

I'm so grateful to all of you for following and reviewing. I have a very clear idea of where this fic should go but it's really people's investment that pushes me to put it down in words. :)) Thank you!

* * *

She is a coward. She knows it and she tells herself that she has made her peace with it.

She really hasn't.

But Emma cannot change her mind. Not after _that_. Because now if she goes out with him even on something as insignificant as a coffee d-… meeting, she knows how her mind is going to betray her.

Her heart more likely.

_Fucking traitor!_

If she goes out with him now it's going to mean _more_. To her that is. Which is where the whole thing falls apart completely. Because it can't mean anything more to him.

He is Killian Jones. The #2 Hottest Man in the World according to _People_ magazine.

Which is bullshit.

_Channing Tatum doesn't have anything on him._

Oh, she is pretty sure that he wouldn't mind a good fuck. Maybe the coffee would turn into a few casual dates even. He is charming, he is witty, they are already at the point where can talk and e-mail and text and tease each other for hours. And then they can just drift apart. After he has had his fill and she is getting just on this side of boring and being together is just not as good as chasing the next conquest.

_Being together?! Fuck! He asked you to grab a coffee! _Coffee_, Emma! Not wedding rings._

She is in too deep already.

Oh, and the media would have a field day. Not that she cares. Plus there's no such thing as bad publicity or whatever it is that David is always harping about.

_I can just picture it 'Ice queen Emma Swan thawed and burned by the hotness of no other but co-star and infamous stud Killian Jones'._

Oh, how she hates the media.

_The rub is that they won't be too far off._

For all of her perfected avoidance techniques in public Emma never quite mastered lying to herself. Which is why she is currently curled up on her couch cursing Killian's name and David's for good measure because he forced her into that damn movie in the first place and-

_Ugh. _

She knows she likes him. She knows she probably _more than likes him_. And, what's even worse, she thinks he might just like her too. That last one makes her chuckle bitterly as a voice in her head, that sounds surprisingly like _him_-

_Fucking Neal._

- telling her not to be stupid, that he couldn't possibly want her, not all of her, not for anything real or permanent. And even if he did now, he would most certain grow tired and decide that he wants to return her and ask for his money, heart, whatever, back.

Ah, how she loves that voice, the one that always talks about her as if she were an object. And a broken one at that.

_Damaged goods._

And the worst is that ever since that night all she wants in to be there for Killian. Talk to him, understand him, support him, heal his scars and let him see her own. She wants to be the one that stands by him because now she knows, like she knows that she will always look for a family to belong to, that Killian wants someone to be truly his, someone he can belong to too. And he doesn't think he can have that so he settles for less, settles for close to nothing.

_You would know how it feels. _You _settle for nothing._

Emma knows all that, she's not an idiot. But that doesn't change the fact that just because she wants all that, she can actually have it. Because she can't. She can't be enough for him. She wasn't enough for her own parents. She wasn't enough for Neal fuck-up Cassidy. How on earth was she supposed to believe she could be enough for Killian Jones?

_I can't._

Her life was fine. Sure, it wasn't perfect but whose is, right? And _now_.

_Now everything is a mess!_

Emma never had trouble separating her professional life and her personal life. Actually if you asked any journalist in America they would probably tell you she did it a bit too well. And then enter Killian I'm-an-annoying-piece-of-shit-with-the-cutest-smile-in-the-world-and-a-laugh-that-turns-Emma-Swan's-insides-to-mush-and-eyes-that-should-be-illigal-and-a-body-that-MUST-be-illegal-somewhere Jones. Killian I'm-a-jackass-and-I-drink-too-much-and-flirt-with-anything-that-moves-but-I'm-also-smart-and-funny-and-have-a-secret-mushy-side Jones. Killian I-

_God, I hate him._

If only it were true she wouldn't be heading for her wine stash right about now.

/

She texts him at 11:35. Because at the end of the day she just can't bear the thought that she let him down. Even if she doesn't have the courage to make it right.

_In too deep doesn't seem to cover it anymore._

'_I'm sorry.'_

He takes less than 3 minutes to reply and she hates him just a little bit more.

'_I understand.'_

She likes her big empty house. It means nobody hears her frustrated and pitiful whimper.

He really doesn't. And with how well he has come to understand her in just a short period of time, she knows that the only thing that can get in the way of him 'reading her'-

"_You're something of an open book, Swan. Or a script if you will. Just haven't figured out how it ends yet."_

- is the thing that always clouds _her _judgment too. Doubts.

And in just those two words glaring back at her from the sickeningly bright screen she can read him. He thinks he scared her. Thinks she doesn't want to. Thinks she doesn't care.

She hates herself a lot more than she could ever hate him.

But she knows how it ends. And there's no happy ending in her script.

/

"I'm thinking of adding matchmaking skills to my résumé. What do you think, Swan? I believe you should too."

His breath is warm in her ear and she clenches her fists silently by her sides, trying to keep her whole body from going rigid. Because he has been more cautious around her, invading her personal space less, keeping it down to a couple of innuendoes a day and generally not imposing his presence on her. And she resents every second of it.

But he is Killian Jones so he took a whole lot of one day to get back to discussing with her everyone from Regina to the guy that brought them lunch and teasing her about their more than friendly scenes together.

Thankfully no more kissing for now.

_Yeah, keep telling yourself you're happy about that._

But the man is right and watching David and Mary Margaret she cannot deny it even if she wanted to. The colour on MM's cheeks, the way her agent leans towards the brunette as if drawn by some invisible magnet. They just _fit_. It makes Emma happy for them. It also makes her uncomfortable in a way that has nothing to do with PDA. She tells herself it doesn't make her jealous. She thinks that's what a happily-ever-after must look like. Not that she would know.

_Well, it would probably look dark and gorgeous with a tinge of the bluest of blu-_

_Stop it!_

Good God, she is losing her mind.

"Hmfff," she shrugs because the day she openly admits Killian Jones is right is the day hell freezes over.

He is rolling his eyes when she turns around to face him and she bites her bottom lips to fight back a grin.

Emma Swan's company has increased Killian Jones' eye-rolling hours tenfold.

His company has increased her grinning hours even more but she tries not to think too much about that.

"Aren't you supposed to be sweating around doing backflips or something equally ridiculous?"

Part of her loves that they fell back into their 'you annoy me and I want you to go away but let's talk some more instead' routine. Part of her hates what it considers a regression.

_Yeah, because we were progressing so wonderfully before._

"They are setting up some sort of a wall," he waves his hand dismissively.

"_Some sort of a wall_? Man, you are as professional as they come, aren't you?" she says.

"My interest in watching sweaty guys set kid's blocks on top of one another is fairly limited, if that's what you mean," he shoots back and rolls his eyes _again_.

"Well, it would certainly be more interesting than watching those two eye-cuddle," Emma points behind her at the new couple, pulling a face of mock disgust. "I swear Snow White and Prince Charming probably saw more action."

His laugh is deep and rich and he throws his head back and-

_Shit! Dangerous territory. Abort, Swan! Abort!_

"So stunt prep!" she says cheerily, starting towards the area where all the _hyper interesting_ work is going on and not waiting for him to stop laughing or follow her.

Of course, 4 seconds later he is beside her and she just really really hates her life sometimes. Or herself. Or him. Or her stupid but well-justified cowardice. Take your pick.

/

Prep work is… well, boring beyond belief. Killian is giving her a look that could mean nothing else but 'I told you so' less than 5 minutes later.

"Jones, can you give us a hand!" someone yells from above them before she can admit that Killian Jones was right and _Frozen_ can actually be filmed in hell.

Killian frowns a little and she knows it's not because he doesn't wanna help. Usually they are not allowed to mess with that part of the pre-shooting process. She thinks it's a safety measure, both so that the actors don't get hurt and so that they don't mess something up and hurt somebody else. But lifting what Killian has deemed 'kid's blocks'-

"_They look at least 10 times heavier than they actually are, Swan."_

- is not something that they can mess up that bad, right?

So Emma takes a step forward almost unconsciously, just following Killian and wondering what exactly they are supposed to give a hand with. And she doesn't actually see it but later everyone tells her that the block literally fell on its own. There wasn't anyone touching it, no one was even close to that part of the wall.

She doesn't see but she does hear. A kind of ominous thud and what she thinks a sand avalanche would sound like. And Killian's yell.

She doesn't see but she does feel. His body barreling into hers, strong arms wrapping around her waist and his head kind of tucking hers beneath it. And the unforgiving concrete floor beneath her side as they hit the ground.

Something hits her foot and she jerks it back looking at the debris beside them.

_That does not look like a kid's block._

"Emma?"

His voice is a bit muffled at first but then the shock starts to wear off and she can focus and hear it ringing with unrepressed fear and concern.

"Emma, are you alright?"

"Fine. I'm fine," her eyes finally focus on his face too and she frowns, both at his panicked look and at the dust in his hair and on the right side of his face. "Are you?!"

He doesn't answer but instead pulls his body away from hers a little, scanning her, brows furrowed painfully.

"Are you sure? Are you-"

"Killian, I'm fine!" she starts to sit up and winces a little because, yeah, okay, maybe her hip was a little sore.

That's when the medic reaches them as well as what seems like every single person she has even seen on set and some that she hasn't. Mary Margaret and David are at the front kneeling on the ground next to them, eyes wide and worried and she repeats that she is fine while Killian just shakes his head at all of the medic's questions.

"There was no one there! Where did that thing come from?!" David is the first to announce what they will hear over and over again in the next few hours.

"What_ is_ that bloody thing?" Killian's voice cuts in and her head snaps to him at the sheer rage in his voice.

Then she follows his burning gaze back to the stone block that is now in a few pieces. Now that she looks at it more closely she can tell that it's not like any of the others. The colour is a bit off. The material is all wrong. The _material _would have cracked her skull open had Killian not tackled her to the ground.

_What the hell?_

/

"The blonde was with him. It would've hit her but he got her out of the way and… they're both fine."

"Good. I'm a patient man. Next time he won't have the chance to jump _out of the way_."


End file.
